


Damned, No Matter

by MyckiCade



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:48:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4143483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyckiCade/pseuds/MyckiCade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were just supposed to be kids, little brats who got into trouble under the excuse that they didn't know any better. We were supposed to be the adults, steering them in the right direction. Not this. Now, it's become painfully clear. We were damned from the start, no matter what we did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damned, No Matter

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf. I am not that clever. This work is for fan enjoyment only. No infringement is intended.
> 
> Author's Note: ...-This has been sitting in one of my folders for well over a year, now. Time to share it! I hope that you enjoy!

“I don't hear anything,” Stiles panted, grabbing at the trunk of a nearby tree for support as he fought the urge to double-over where he stood. Maybe, Coach was right. Maybe, he was out-of-shape. Glancing up, he focused on a light blue stripe at the back of Isaac's sweatshirt. “D-Do you hear 'em, anymore?”

“Shhh,” Isaac ordered, holding up his left hand for silence. Not about to argue, Stiles worked to catch his breath (as quietly as one could gasp for air, he supposed). Tried not to think about just how _fucked_ they probably were.

See, it had started out on a hunt. Well, Scott had called it a hunt, but it became clear within the first hour that they had been sent out on a spectacular cluster fuck of a tracking job, courtesy the World's Most Useless Fucking Alpha _Ever_. Isaac's theory was that they were being kept out of the loop on purpose, 'too weak' to be taken on the real job, no one wanting them to become a liability. Stiles hadn't disagreed. It made perfect sense. Derek had all but severed Isaac from his pack, and Scott had outright lied to Stiles' face about the task at-hand. Clearly, they were being pushed away.

Unfortunately, he'd had that realization at about the same time that the Alpha had shown up. Tall, dark, and clawed had been chasing them through the woods for longer than Stiles' pathetically-human little lungs cared to think about. He wasn't like Isaac, he wasn't made for this kind of thing. He'd nearly been decapitated a couple of different times, by some low-hanging tree branches. And, if he had to hurdle himself over one more massive tree root...

“Hey, yeah... I smell her,” Isaac murmured at last, breaking Stiles from his thoughts. “But, she's running... away? Huh.”

Stiles heaved the barest hint of a sigh. So long as the scary broad left, who was he to complain? Now, if they could just find their way back to the road – piece of cake with Isaac's senses, right? - they could probably get back home in time for a full-night's sleep.

“Stay here. I'm going after her.”

Oh, _hell,_ no. He had _not_ just heard that. “Are you crazy?” he whispered, harshly. “You can't fight her! She'll maul you!” Sure, it wasn't the nicest thing he could have said, but it was no-less the truth. If there was one thing Stiles wasn't eager to see, it was Isaac getting hurt by trying to prove his strength.

The look that Isaac tossed over his shoulder was chilling. Stiles had a feeling he wasn't going to win this argument. “Watch me.” In the next instant, the taller boy was gone, rushing off toward what _may_ have been west, and leaving Stiles standing in disbelief.

“Oh, yeah, like I can see a _damn thing,_ thanks,” he grumbled to himself. Stiles glanced around, uselessly. As he'd already voiced, there was no way that he was going to stumble his way out of the woods, all by his lonesome. There was no moon to go by, tonight, and only the barest hint of starlight. And, him without a pair of night-vision goggles. Tsk, tsk, the things he should have thought about packing, before embarking on a quest with a werewolf who was going to _leave him stranded in the middle of the damned woods in the pitch black of a moonless night._ Fucking werewolves.

Dropping his back against the nearest tree, Stiles fought to keep his imagination under control. Isaac had said that the Alpha was moving in the opposite direction, so (hopefully) that was one less threat to worry about. But, that was just _one_ Alpha. It didn't say a damn word for any of the other, what? Three, four that were left? Oh, that was just peachy. His scrawny ass was hanging in the breeze, here, completely defenseless. What was he supposed to do with that? With that thought in-mind, Stiles took a deep breath, and tried to harness some shred of sanity. Tried not to freak right the fuck out, thank you, very much.

“Ohhh, Stiles, old boy... You're dead meat, you know that, right?” he mumbled to himself, sliding down to a crouching position. Trembling fingers rubbed against his mouth, harshly. That would be just ducky, too, wouldn't it? Having to explain to the Sheriff that his son had been mauled to death by... Well, take your pick, really. Depending upon who would be asked, it would either be a dog, a _large_ dog, or, another mountain lion. His father would believe it, too, Stiles just knew it. But, that was for the better, really. The last thing he wanted was for his father to have to face the realities of the supernatural. The supposedly 'safe world' that the man still lived in was horrific enough.

Oh, God, he was going to die out here, wasn't he? What the hell would come of his father, then? To lose a wife, and then a son (no matter how troublesome and worthless) would take the last of the man's willpower and strength away from him. Ducking his head, Stiles tucked his chin to his chest, hands coming to rest over the back of his skull. No, no, no, he couldn't let that happen. His Dad deserved better than that. Who would make sure that he ate right, slept normally, took his medications, and didn't drink himself to an early grave?

Okay, for a mostly-open area, there certainly didn't seem to be an over-abundance of air flowing around him. Stiles took a shallow breath, unable to coax his lungs into expanding to full capacity. What was he going to do? No one was going to come looking for him, not Scott, not Allison, and definitely not Derek... Isaac, maybe, if he remembered where he'd left him. But, for right now, there was no one looking, because no one knew that he was missing. Stiles was all on his own.

Fucking werewolves.

 

. . .

 

Isaac wasn't sure when he'd lost the Alpha's scent, but he quickly found himself chasing his own damned tail. Cursing under his breath, the boy paused to gauge his surroundings. All right, so, dashing off into the middle of the night like some headstrong hero wannabe _probably_ wasn't his best choice of offensive tactic, but, now, he was stuck with it. He was also stuck with another problem.

He was pretty sure he was lost.

Pretty stupid thing, that, especially given that he was on familiar territory. It was undeniable, though. He couldn't track the Alpha to save his soul, and the wind had been playing tricks on him for the last five miles or so. Every tree was starting to look the same as the last fifty before, and, either that owl was following him, or every finely-feathered critter on the reserve had set up their own version of the Twilight Bark.

Shaking his head, Isaac rubbed his fingers over his eyes. He was starting to lose it.

There was a disturbing lack of moonlight going on, tonight, he finally stopped to note. While he didn't exactly _need_ the extra help, it certainly never _hurt._ The temperature had dropped a few degrees since he had left Stiles back by that tree, but it was nothing that he couldn't handle-

Shit.

_Stiles._

Turning around, Isaac glanced around, hoping to remember what way he had come from. _That was smart, Lahey,_ he grumbled, mentally. _You know better than to leave him alone. Scott'll have your_ ass, _anything happens to Stilinksi._ It was a sobering thought. Scott wouldn't just kill him, no, that would be too merciful. There would be torture involved in this, he was quite sure. Lots of blood, and probably a little bit of dismemberment. It would likely depend upon what fate had befallen Stiles, to begin with, just what he-

 _Fucking A,_ what the hell was he getting so worked up about? So far as he knew, Stiles was just fine. If he was smart – and, there was no denying that the kid had brains for days – Stiles had stayed by that tree, and kept nice and quiet.

On the other hand, there was a chance that he had decided to take off. Worse-over, there was a fairly decent chance that one of the Alphas had picked up his scent.

Jesus Christ, he was so _fucked._

“Stiles!” he called, dashing back off in what he hoped was the right direction. “Stiles! Can you hear me?” Of course, there was no answer. He hadn't actually been expecting one. Just... _Hoping_...

He came out of a small cluster of overgrowth, feet landing unsteadily on a patch of loose rocks. Righting himself, he glanced around to find out that he was standing at the beginning of a split in one of the nature paths that wound their way through the reserve. The left he knew would track around, and lead him back toward the remains of the old Hale place. The right lead back toward the main road. Stiles' Jeep was parked out by the entrance. He knew where they had gone from there.

Turning right, Isaac rushed down the path. The sooner he got to the Jeep, and traced his steps back to Stiles, the sooner they could regroup, and get the hell out of Dodge. Less than half a mile in, however, the boy skidded to a halt. There it was, again. The Alpha's scent. And, she'd found blood.

 

. . .

 

“Has _anyone_ heard from them?” Scott asked, panic creeping into his voice, unchecked. He looked around at the rest of his pack, blood running cold as he was met with negative responses. “Nobody? Nothing?”

Allison bit her lip, briefly. “Lydia's tried texting them both, Scott,” she admitted, trying to keep her own voice as steady as possible. It was a difficult task, worried as she was. “She's called... We went by the gate, and saw Stiles' phone, still in his Jeep.” Beside her, Lydia shifted on her feet, uncomfortable. “Isaac's went straight to voicemail.”

“I'm sure they're fine,” Derek interjected, the words only serving to further raise Scott's hackles. “We'll do a sweep, and bring them back in.”

“Like it's so easy,” Lydia grumbled, under her breath, accompanied by a roll of her eyes. Derek turned a glare on her, which was returned, full-force. “Everyone's thinking it. If you'd just listened to Scott, in the first place, _Derek,_ those two would be safe, back at the loft.”

A low growl rose from Derek's throat. “We all agreed that this was the best plan.”

Lydia's eyes widened. “How was this the best plan?!” she demanded, stepping toward Derek, ready to throttle the man, senseless. She would have made good on that desire, too, had Scott not taken that moment to step between them.

“Whoa, whoa! Guys, c'mon!” he shouted, arms outstretched, hoping to keep everyone calm. “This isn't going to find Stiles, or Isaac. Now, it's not about who was right, or who was wrong.” Lydia and Derek glanced at one another, for barely a second, before looking away, again. Scott sighed. “Look. We'll do the sweep, and track them down.” Looking back to Allison, Scott nodded. “Allison, I want you and Lydia to go home. Derek and I can handle this.”

Allison raised an eyebrow. “Okay, so, you're sidelining us, now?”

“No,” Scott nearly whined, unwilling to have that particular conversation in the here-and-now. “We lost the Alpha, and I don't want you two waiting out here, alone. It's not a girl thing!” he rushed, once he saw Allison raise her hand, to point a threatening finger in his face. “It's not. I promise. Just... Trust me, okay? We'll call you, as soon as we have them.”

“Scott's right,” Derek agreed. “You two will slow us down.” He looked to Lydia, and mock-smiled at her. “No offense.”

Closing his eyes, Scott tried to get a handle on himself. There was a severe migraine building behind his eyes, he was sure of it. “Just... Go home. I'll call you, once we have them.” Opening his eyes, once again, Scott smiled at Allison, reassuringly. “Half an hour, tops.”

Taking a deep breath, Allison forced a nod. “Okay,” she replied, at some length, clearly unhappy about the situation. “Okay, fine. We'll go.” She moved back, a step, then another, her eyes not leaving Scott. “Half an hour,” she reminded, nodding for Lydia to follow her. With a last, dirty look in Derek's direction, Lydia moved to catch up to Allison.

“Half an hour,” Scott echoed, watching as the girls retreated from his line of sight. It wasn't until they were out of earshot, that Scott turned toward an indifferent-looking Derek, and growled, “If anything's happened to them, you and I are going to have an issue.” Turning for the treeline, Scott started off into the reserve, leaving a guilty alpha to follow behind him.


End file.
